s he heard the driver's
reply to passing natives inquiring their destination:--"Kwa Zulu," and
could enter fully into the spirit of the said reply, given loftily and
as it were with a touch of pity for the unfortunates condemned to
stagnate at home.

"I was in luck this morning, Ridgeley," said Dawes, as they
superintended the inspanning of the other waggon. "I picked up a
capital Basuto pony, dirt cheap. He'll do for you to ride. There he
is, by the side of mine."

Two steeds were being driven up, knee-haltered. One was a bay, the
other a strongly-built mouse-coloured pony of about fourteen hands.
Gerard was delighted:

"They tell me he's a good shooting horse," went on Dawes, "so that's
another advantage. I always like to have a horse along. One can turn
off the track, and get a shot at a buck without having to fag one's soul
out to catch up the waggons again; and then, too, one sometimes wants to
go into places where one can't take the waggons, and for that, of
course, a horse is nearly indispensable. Are you fond of shooting?"

Gerard answered eagerly that he had hardly ever been lucky enough to get
any. It was, however, the thing of all others he was keenest to
attempt. But he had not even got a gun, though he had a revolver.

"Well, we'll soon make a shot of you," said Dawes. "There's a Martini
rifle in the waggon, and a double gun, one barrel rifled, the other
smooth. We'll find plenty to empty them at when we get up into the Zulu
country, never fear."

Then, the waggons being inspanned, and the two horses made fast behind,
they started. And as they toiled slowly up the long hill which led away
to the border, and presently the lights and blue gum-trees which marked
the site of Maritzbnrg lying in its great basin-like hollow disappeared
behind the rise, Gerard felt that this was the most glorious moment of
his life. The most dazzling vista seemed to open out before him--
adventures and strange experiences to crowd upon each other's heels.
Was he not bound for that wild, mysterious, enchanted land, of which he
had heard many a strange tale from those who had called from time to
time at Anstey's? "Up-country," they would say, with a careless jerk of
the finger, "up-country!" And already he seemed to hear the booming
roar of the prowling lion round the midnight fire, to see the savage
phalanx of the Zulu regiment on the march, bound upon some fell errand
of death and destruction. All the hard a